Athene's War Song
by Auragasmic
Summary: When a priestess' novel unintentionally goes viral and sparks whispers of revolution throughout Azeroth, how will she stay alive? Will the chance encounter she had with a mysterious blood elf rogue years ago come back to haunt her? Rating has been bumped to M for violence, gore & naughtiness!
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

_ A lone figure crept through the early morning fog of Stormwind's Trade District. It wandered between the little shops, casting nervous glances about, lurking in the shadows. It had something clutched in its hand, a piece of paper wrapped in a silk tie to ensure that its shape and integrity remained intact. The figure slunk closer to the Hero's Call Board in the center of the city, its heart beating rapidly as it unwrapped the silk from the thick poster and unrolled it. With trembling hands, the figure began to quickly hammer the poster into the call board. _

_ In the center of the paper was a solitary eye, etched in red ink. Beneath the eye, was the number nine translated into each language of Azeroth. _

_ Laughter and the sound of plate boots upon stone started the figure who vanished just as two members of the Stormwind guard rounded the corner of the auction house. One of the men scoffed as he saw the strange poster on the public board._

_ "Have you see this rubbish, Herald? We've been finding this shite all over the city. Plastered on the side of shops, washed up in the canals, Fel, we even found some in the lavatories fer light's sake! What do you make of this nonsense?"_

_ The older man reached forward and yanked the poster from the board, his eyes wandering the bizarre parchment. He crumpled it suddenly and tossed it to the ground, stomping it with his heavy boots. He turned to his perplexed partner and smiled._

_ "Just a poster."_


	2. Chapter 2

Athene sighed as she dusted the lint from the shoulders of her exquisite gold and sanguine robe. She had been in Silverwing Hold for almost three months now, aiding the Alliance in their sweeping victories of Warsong Gulch but had seen very little action herself. Indeed, the Alliance soldiers had proven to be incredibly resilient across the grassy slopes and dusty terrains, rendering her skills as a healer unnecessary in most circumstances.

She shifted restlessly under the sweltering sun. She was hot, anxious and desperately ached for the cooling streams of Elwynn Forest to revive her tired body. She longed for the happy summer days of her youth in Northshire valley – before her talents for healing were inevitably discovered by her local priest trainer. Athene was well into her teens, eighteen to be exact, when she was hand picked by Priestess Anetta to study under Brother Benjamin in Stormwind. It wasn't long before Athene's reputation spread to General Marcus Johnathan and she was recruited for the military efforts in the Gulch.

_Three long months, _Athene thought bitterly. She had never intended to involve herself in any of the bigotry that seemingly engulfed the two factions. In her mind, the path to peace was paved with diplomacy not mindless bloodshed but alas, her thoughts on the matter were deemed inconsequential by her fellow combatants. They cared little for her laments on the sanctity of life and scoffed whenever she urgently lectured them on the prosperity of love, compassion and generosity.

"The light is lost on those who wallow in perpetual darkness," Athene mused as she turned to her solitary companion in the hold. Aris was a tall, lithely built night elf with tumbling waves of turquoise hair and powder blue skin. He had an abrasive manner that made him a favoured member of SI:7 whenever he wasn't eviscerating members of the Horde on the battlefield. He was quick to acknowledge her comment with a nod but was careful not to break stealth. If Aris was anything, he was the quintessential soldier. Deeply committed to his craft and unbelievably disciplined, he was often left to guard Athene while the rest of their unit moved out for the day.

Aris swiftly jumped from the second level of the hold to face Athene as she sat in the small cubbyhole reserved for wounded soldiers. It was empty save for a few bedrolls and unused medicinal supplies covered in a thick layer of dust. He broke stealth suddenly and stretched his long body, his tattered leather bodice lifting to reveal his taut abs.

Athene quickly blushed and averted her eyes. She wasn't accustomed to being left in the company of men, and certainly not men as beautiful as her current guard. Aris noticed her obvious embarrassment and chuckled softly.

"You see wounded men in various states of undress all the time, Athene, and yet you blush at a subtle display of my skin? Should I be flattered?" He teased, tilting his head while leaning against the cool stone wall.

Athene flushed and shook her head, "No, Aris. I just think I've been out here too long. I want to go home."

Aris nodded and straightened his posture, "It's been weeks since I've had a good fight," He paused and winked mischievously at her, "Or a good fuck. I'm restless." He shrugged his shoulders and looked off into the distance, down the long, darkened tunnel that led to the bloodied fields of the gulch.

"Aris, it's been quiet in here for days. Our troops have been advancing their position for weeks now. Why don't you take some time to check the perimeter? See if you can spot some stealthies?" Athene suggested helpfully. She was worried that if Aris didn't blow off some steam soon, he'd become resentful towards her and she was adept enough at her craft that she worried little about being ambushed.

"What about you? How well will you fare without my poisoned blades and occasional peep show?" He grinned down at her, nudging Athene's leg with a huge leather boot.

"I'll manage. I'll write or meditate. Now go kill something." She shooed him off with a wave of her hand while she closed her eyes and felt the tension slowly drain from her body.

"As you wish. I'll be back soon."

And with that, Athene was suddenly alone. She felt her body become heavy. When was the last time she had a good night's rest? Days? Weeks? Months? Her eyelids felt like bits of lead as she felt a cool, gentle breeze drift into the rapidly darkening room. It would only be a few hours before her compatriots returned from the fields and her night would be full of renewing and mending their shallow wounds. As her breathing slowed and her body began to succumb to the gentle rhythms of sleep, she didn't catch a glimpse of shadowy, crouched figure just outside the room. She didn't see his emerald eyes watching her still form, or the way his slender fingers clutched the sharpened blades at his side.

No, Athene saw none of this as she drifted in the arms of slumber. She dreamt.

_The sky was clear as Athene ran through the dew soaked grasses of Elwynn forest. Thunderstorms had ripped through Northshire Valley during the night and had broken the scorching July humidity, creating a beautiful morning and a perfect opportunity to go swimming in Crystal Lake._

_ Her friend Illeythia followed closely behind her. Athene could hear the older girl's giggles as they advanced quickly upon the lake, Illeythia hopping as she awkwardly removed her mail boots and simple leather bodice. Athene didn't worry about disrobing. Her clothing was silk and netherweave, and she wasn't anxious to involve herself in a race with her warrior in training friend. Illeythia was known rather infamously for her competitive nature, and Athene was always sure to stay on her friend's good side._

_ Illeythia was the first to reach the muddied shoreline of the lake, clothed only in her undergarments and a fine sheen of sweat. She dove beneath the glassy surface, startling the songbirds that had gathered in a nearby tree. _

_ Athene had paused to disrobe before her feet sunk into the cold mud. She meticulously removed her white robe, folded it, and placed her silken slippers atop a neat pile beside a weathered log. She nervously looked around to see if anyone was watching before she gleefully ran into the lake. _

_ Illeythia had just surfaced as Athene waded in the waist deep water. Her friend was swimming on her back, kicking her long, elegant legs lazily as she gazed directly up at the sun. Her arms waving slowly, fingers spread to feel the water slip through them. She sighed happily as she closed her eyes and turned to Athene, who was testing the muddied bank with her toes and bobbing slightly._

_ "Do you think you'll train, Athene?" Illeythia asked as she floated carelessly, drifting in the __soft currents created by her own movements._

_ Athene shrugged as she cautiously waded over to her friend, "I don't know. Maybe. I haven't really thought about it."_

_ Illeythia sighed suddenly. Her lithe body shifting in the water so she could face her friend. "I can't wait to reach the battlefields. The glory, the blood, the fights!" She grinned and made an abrupt stabbing motion at Athene's blanched face. "Don't you want to see the world? All of Azeroth? I've seen the way you wield the light, Athene and so has Anetta. You're a healer – maybe not a battle healer, but with your talents and my strength we could be a force to be reckoned with."_

_ Athene nodded, "I want to heal, Illeythia. I do! But I don't want to further some useless war between the Alliance and the Horde. I want to mend the wounds that made us enemies. I can't do that if I'm fighting."_

_ Illeythia scoffed. "There will never be peace, Athene, and there will always be wars and there will always be fighters because -" She paused suddenly as her eyes rapidly scanned the shoreline where Athene had left her robe and slippers. _

_ "What the fel..." Athene began to turn around but was silenced abruptly as her friend clamped a cold hand over her mouth._

_ "Blood elf. Behind that log. Stay here." Illeythia dove into the lake's murky depths only to surface a few feet from the muddied bank. "Hey, Blondiepants!" she screamed at the obviously startled elf as she stomped out of the lake. "Did you have a good look at the human girls?" _

_ Athene had begun swimming towards the shore but stopped briefly to gawk at what she could only describe as the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes upon. The elf was tall, with pale blonde hair that fell over his shoulders. His skin was golden, tanned by the sun, his glowing green eyes were only accentuated by his high cheekbones, aristocratic nose and strong jawline. His body was swathed in black leathers, hiding what appeared to be a lean, muscled torso and well defined legs. _

_ He was cheerfully regarding Illeythia as she quickly rushed to gather her mail armour and training sword all the while cursing at him in common._

_ Oh great, Athene thought. He's a smartass. She emerged from the lake wildly holding out her hands in placation, trying to soothe the misunderstanding between Illeythia and the elf. She hastily jumped in front of her friend as the elf stood amused, watching the two teenagers with interest. _

_ "Don't you stand between us!" Illeythia snarled as she took a defensive stance, her sword firmly gripped in her right hand, her other arm frantically swiping at Athene to move the younger girl off to the side._

_ "No! Illeythia! Look at his clothing! Look at his weapons! Illeythia – LOOK!" Athene pleaded desperately with her friend to notice what she had shortly after she emerged from the water. The elf was _**old **_and very, very well trained. His garb screamed experience, as did his motions as he suddenly vanished._

_ "Oh, fel's bells! He's a rogue, Illeythia! We need to go!" Athene scrambled up the slick grass but suddenly stumbled as she lost grip of Illeythia's hand. She turned to scream at her friend again but noticed that the older girl's body had suddenly gone limp, her knees sagged and upper body slumped slightly. Athene jumped up from the dewy grass and grabbed her friend, shaking her to no avail._

_ "She won't wake up, I'm afraid, not for a while at least." A silky voice whispered in accented common in her ear. Athene gasped as she backed away from Illeythia's still form _

_ "Hello?" She whispered, trembling in the cool morning breeze. Her eyes frantically scanning the terrain for a silhouette, a shadow, anything to betray the rogue's position. _

_ "Hello there," Athene yelped as she felt a strong arm lock around her midsection pressing her __back against a warm, solid body._

_ "What...what do you want with us? We don't have any gold, we're mere farm girls from Northshire Valley. We have no worldly goods to offer you," Athene whispered, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest._

_ The body behind her shifted slightly, and she felt a deep rumble of laughter against her shoulder blades._

_ "And what if what I desired was more," he paused "carnal?" he breathed against her neck. His other hand trailing down her arm, creating gooseflesh where his fingertips brushed her skin. Athene suddenly became very aware of how little she was wearing and shuddered. _

_ "I'm afraid we're both naive in the ways of men," Athene shivered, "we would be of little use to someone as experienced as yourself." She would try appealing to his ego as she had often heard Blood Elves were an incredibly self-absorbed race. _

_ It worked. The elf released her and appeared before her, glancing over at Illeythia's still sapped form. _

_ "You shouldn't be out alone in these woods, youngling. It's dangerous and you haven't a heart for danger. Your friend does, but her recklessness will eventually be her demise should she meet someone more unforgiving than I." He smiled unkindly._

_ Athene shook her head, "Illeythia has the spirit of a warrior," she noticed the red emblem of the Horde on his tabard and frowned, "When she's finished training in a few years, I'm sure she'll be more than happy to repay your _**forgiving nature **_on the battlefield." _

_ "Is that a threat? From a naive farm girl?" The elf laughed and suddenly appeared behind Athene again, holding her in his vice grip._

_ "It isn't a threat, elf. It's a promise." Athene bit out, her temper slowly getting the better of her as she watched Illeythia's body begin to recover from the effects of the rogue's sap._

_ "And what exactly will you be doing to help your little warrior friend, hm?" He teased, "Cheering her on? Polishing her armour? Her boots?" Athene struggled against his grip to no avail. He held on to her steadfast, his lips brushing the back of her neck. "No, no, no. You don't have the spirit of a servant. You have the pious attitude of a priest. Well then," he gently nibbled the back of her neck and Athene felt her legs go weak, "I look forward to the next time we meet, dear heart. Perhaps after I've finished with your friend, I can teach you to be...less naive in the ways of men." _

_ Athene watched as Illeythia's limbs straightened and her body regained awareness. _

_ "Is that a threat, blood elf?" She asked as Illeythia turned to her, mystified. _

_ "No, it's a promise." _

_ And with that, Athene was yanked around in the arms of the rogue, his hands crushing against the middle of her back. She gasped as he leaned forward and firmly placed his lips against her open mouth, his tongue tracing her bottom lip, sucking it gently. _

_ "Until we meet again," He winked just before he vanished. Athene fell to her knees in the damp grass, her fingers tracing her swollen lips._

_After Illeythia had finished storming the area, her face flushed with rage, her sword clenched firmly between her hands, she turned to her younger friend._

_ "Are you alright, Athene? I swear by the light, I'll kill that bastard if he comes back!" She roared, anger and concern etched into her features as she knelt beside Athene in the grass._

_ Athene knew with certainty, that her path was changed from the encounter with the elf, that her world would be forever rocked by their exchange, and she swore that she would never, ever again, be rendered helpless in the arms of the enemy. She looked up at Illeythia's concerned face and cupped her cheek._

_ "I will become a priestess." _


	3. Chapter 3

** Two Weeks earlier in Arathi Basin...**

Illeythia firmly placed her heavy plate boot against the chest of an orc hunter to steady herself as she yanked her sword from his throat. A high arc of blood spurted into the air as the weapon was removed. The dying orc grunted something in his native tongue but the words were soundless, the only sound that emitted from the orc was from the frothing wound at the base of his neck. Illeythia crouched beside him.

"This is a good death, hunter. Your pet will be cared for and I'm sure your Battlemasters will tend to the needs of your family." The orc gasped again, the light fading gently from his eyes, the blood that ebbed from his neck dwindled. He was gone. Illeythia sighed and sat beside him, cleaning the muck from her weapons as she removed her breastplate.

"Your priest must have had quite an impact on you," mused a pale blue Draenei, emerging from a rich thicket of underbrush, wiping the thorns and foliage from her mail armour. Illeythia grinned at the sight of her friend, Ria, a talented shaman trained in the arts of battle restoration. Illeythia had stumbled upon Ria a few weeks ago, somewhere along the dusty roads that separated the farm and gold mine, fighting off a few rogues with lightning bolts and foul language. She had liked Ria immediately.

"Athene has an impact on everyone she encounters," Illeythia explained as Ria inspected the warrior for wounds.

"So she does," Ria paused as she ran her fingers along a patch of thick, rigid wounds inflicted by the hunter's pet tiger. "These will need further treatment upon our return to Trollbane Hall. If these are to fall prey to infection, they would be beyond my healing abilities." The Draenei stood and offered a hand to her wounded friend which was immediately waved away.

"I'm fine, Ria. We should push on and gather more reso-" Illeythia's sentence was cut short by Ria's derisive expression.

"You know what's difficult to do when you're dead, Illeythia?" She raised an elegant eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Everything." She mocked.

Illeythia sighed, knowing full well that her friend was right. Her wounds would be infected in no time in their current conditions. They had few medical supplies and even less food. They had no shelter and the skies in Arathi Basin had begun to darken with the promise of rain. They needed to return to Trollbane Hall but couldn't do that during a storm. They needed shelter.

"The gold mine is on our way back. Why don't we stop there for the night? We can easily find some raptor eggs for dinner and then head back in the morning." Illeythia suggested, deciding to compromise with her friend.

Ria sighed and nodded, "Fine – but we're not engaging any Horde we see. We're gathering dinner, setting camp, and going to sleep, alright?" She extended her hand, expecting Illeythia to agree to the terms.

Illeythia grinned and grasped her friend's hand, "It's a deal."

* * *

The two women approached the gold mine cautiously. It was a contested area, one that wasn't typically rife with Horde, but the occasional stealthie had been known to stalk the area in hopes of ganking an unsuspecting victim. A tattered blue and gold banner embroidered with the crest of the Alliance waved limply in the wind under the heavy weight of the falling rain.

Illeythia inspected the depths of the mine and saw no indication that anyone had been in the area for weeks. She returned to the mouth of the cave and quickly ushered her friend into the damp cavern.

"You build the fire, I'll cook." Ria nodded as she unpacked some kindling from her netherweave sack and muttered an intonation that created a ball of fire between her two hands. Illeythia chuckled. "That's cheating!" She nudged her friend who narrowed her eyes.

"I'll have you know I trained as an elemental shaman before I decided to take a more gentle path in healing," Ria began as she set the kindling aflame. "I still miss the feeling of lightning at my fingertips."

Illeythia had unpacked some moonberry juice while watching the shaman work. She offered Ria a cup as she cracked the raptor eggs into an iron frying pan and began seasoning them with salt and pepper over the open flame.

"You're one of the best healers I've ever encountered in battle, Ria. I'm sure your talents as a master of the elements would be welcomed in any fight." She watched her friend's face flush from the compliment.

"You honour me, warrior. I've spent years learning the delicate art of bending the elements to my will and nothing compares to the feeling of lightening charging through my body. Nothing. Not the saving grace of my healing spells, not the touch of a man or," She smiled slightly "the touch of a woman. And now I fear my path will be forever altered due to the needs of the Alliance." She said bitterly.

"So few among us embrace the healing light, it's really no wonder the Horde makes such advancements in contested areas." She sighed as she watched the light from the fire dance across the darkened cave.

Illeythia shrugged, "Every fighter needs a healer. Every healer needs a fighter. We're meant to compliment each other, not cause friction within the ranks." She passed a plate of scrambled eggs to the dejected d_raenei._

"If it's any consolation, I fear my time as a warrior is slowly coming to an end. This is my fifth tour of the Basin and I've spent the past decade advancing and protecting the investments of the Alliance. I've killed thousands of men and women just like me, nameless soldiers and cannon fodder for a never ending war."

She chewed her eggs quickly and shook her head, "But what would I do without the hymn of battle in my head? Where would I travel without proudly flying the Alliance banner by my side? What could I accomplish that wouldn't require my sword and armour?"

Ria looked thoughtful and suddenly raised her plate. "These eggs wouldn't kill anyone. Have you thought about exchanging your sword for a butcher knife? Perhaps studying the culinary arts instead of martial arts? You could open a restaurant and call it, 'The riskiest place to eat in Azeroth!'" She cackled.

Illeythia laughed. "If you keep complaining about my cooking, I'll force feed you my braised boar ribs. Fel's bells! They should be classified as weapons of mass destruction!"

Ria chuckled and reached over to touch her friend's face. "Illeythia, our paths change like the shifting seasons of the Earth, for after every winter there is a spring." She pinched Illeythia's cheek and grinned. "Now, that's about as much shammanly advice as I can muster! Let's get this mess cleaned up so I can rest my tired hooves!"

The two finished their dinner quickly and subdued the flames from the fire as to not alert anyone to their presence deep within the mine. The rain fell outside in torrential downpour as the two women settled in for the night, their bedrolls musty and dampened from the humidity.

"You'll take the first watch then?" Illeythia yawned. Ria nodded, her white eyes bobbing in the darkness.

"Goodnight, warrior." The draenei murmured, stroking a stray strand of hair from Illeythia's face.

* * *

Illeythia was roused from slumber by the strange sensation of dampness. _Why am I wet?_ She thought as she struggled to open her eyes against a powerful illumination. _Why the fel is it so bright in here? _Her eyes widened as she listened to the voices around her, voices that spoke a language that didn't belong to any race associated with the Alliance. Her warrior instincts immediately told her that she and Ria were in danger, and as she struggled to sit up, she realized in horror that her hands had been bound with wire.

"Ria!" She shouted as her vision adjusted and the scene before her began to piece itself together.

Her friend must have fallen asleep during the night and the two were ambushed by what appeared to be at least six or seven well geared members of the Horde. Illeythia spotted two orcs, an undead, a blood elf and several trolls. The elf looked incredibly familiar but she couldn't place his face. He was taller than the rest, his sun kissed skin damp from the rain and his long, pale blonde hair gathered in a tight topknot. He wore the traditional leather garb of a rogue, and judging by his jewel-encrusted twin daggers, was well adept in his skill. Upon seeing her wake, the rogue held a hand up, dismissing what appeared to be a very heated argument between the members. Illeythia's blood froze in fear as the rogue crouched beside her.

"I apologize for waking you in such a crude manner," He gestured to the empty basin at her feet. "But you're rather a deep sleeper and I'm afraid if I hadn't taken matters into my own hands..." He gestured towards the leering group of men behind him. "They would have."

The elf repositioned himself so that he was kneeling directly in front of her, blocking her sight of the ghoulish fiends behind him. Illeythia gazed deeply into his face.

_Where do I know you from? _She wondered but her thoughts were interrupted as the rogue began speaking again.

"My friends and I here discovered an orc's corpse just a few miles away from here. He was stabbed through the throat, a truly wretched way to die, by what only could have been a very large sword. Do you have a very large sword, little human?" The rogue asked in perfect common, his emerald green eyes searching her face for any sign of deception.

Illeythia swallowed and considered her options. Surely they weren't going to let her live if they thought she was responsible for their death of their friend but perhaps she could persuade the group to spare Ria's life if she told the truth. She met the rogue's gaze with a steely expression worthy of an assassin.

"Yes, I killed the orc but the shaman had nothing to do with it. I found her here, at the mine, and she was kind enough to offer me shelter. Do whatever you will with me, but please, let her live.." Illeythia reasoned with the rogue, her eyes betraying the emotion she felt for Ria.

The rogue sighed and touched her face gently. Illeythia recoiled from his fingers, but the rogue was insistent with his affections, tracing the delicate arc of her eyebrows, the gentle slope of her nose, the line between her full lips and gripped her chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.

"I appreciate your honesty, little human. Tell me, what is your name?" He asked, his gaze now lowering to her uncovered body, his eyes greedily drinking in her soft, subtle curves.

"I'm Illeythia, an honoured warrior of the Alliance. Where is Ria? Who the fel are you?" She spat, understanding his intentions and struggling in vain to escape the wire that bound her wrists.

The elf moved abruptly, shifting his position so that he sat atop her lap and placed one hand against the cold wall behind her head while the other yanked her wrists, eliciting a yelp from the subdued warrior.

"I'm Zariah Dawnbreaker," He breathed, "And I do believe I have a promise to keep to your friend, but first, whatever shall I do with you?" Illeythia's eyes widened as she finally remembered where she had seen her captor.

"You...you're the elf from the lake that day, aren't you? What do you want?" She whispered, watching as Zariah's face broke out into a wolfish grin. He nodded and slid his body slowly down hers, his eyes dropping to her lips.

The elf shrugged nonchalantly. "I want a great many things. Good food, sturdy weapons, a comfortable home..." He tilted his head and ran his eyes down the length of her body and then back to her face. "I'm actually in the market for a priestess at the moment. Do you know of any?" He asked, chuckling as Illeythia's face flushed with rage.

"Athene would never work with the likes of you! She has standards, you mana-sucking leech and if you think for one moment that I'll reveal what battle ground she's stat-" Illeythia gasped as she realized she had already said too much.

"Thank you, Illeythia, you've been ever so helpful. Seeing as how it's spring, there are only two active contested areas at the moment in which your lovely young friend is strong enough to withstand." He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the rest of his group had settled outside save a troll, who was currently leering at the bound warrior with lusty interest.

"Rashi, I told you to secure the shaman. Where is she?" Zariah asked, his voice heavy with annoyance.

The huge troll made a flippant gesture with his three-fingered hand and responded with something that Illeythia couldn't understand but appeared to sate the irritated elf. He turned back to her flashed her a dazzling smile. Illeythia paled.

"What have you lecherous, bottom-feeding trogs done with Ria? What do you want with Athene? LET ME GO!" She roared, struggling to free herself.

Zariah smoothed her hair out of her face as she tossed wildly beneath him. "Shh, shh. I guarantee that no harm will come to your shaman friend. If she's as innocent as you insist she is, I see no reason in shedding her blood this night."

Illeythia calmed momentarily and allowed the tension to drain from her limbs. "What do you want with Athene?" She asked.

The rogue glanced once again over his shoulder and after seeing that the lone troll had wandered outside he nodded his head. "Your friend – Athene – she's a writer, yes?" He paused, anxiously awaiting her response.

Illeythia shook her head in confusion. What the fel would a blood elf want with Athene's writings? The girl couldn't keep school children interested in her fables. "Uh...yes. She is I suppose. But what does that have to do with anything? She's awful, really. One of her stories made the children at the orphanage cry. She hasn't been allowed back since."

The elf chuckled and tapped Illeythia's nose. "Well, orphaned children aren't the only people bothered by Athene's penchant for storytelling. Have you heard of the War Song?"

Illeythia gaped at him. _**The**_ War Song? He couldn't possibly believe that Athene was responsible for such an inflammatory piece of rhetoric. "Of course!" She gasped. "But Athene doesn't write political nonsense! She writes stories about bunnies and Father Winter and...gumdrops for light's sake!" She sputtered.

As Zariah was about to continue, the sound of foreign voices drifted loudly from the mouth of the cave. Illeythia glanced over his shoulder to see that his party had returned and they looked very interested in the subdued warrior. The elf's demeanour shifted abruptly.

"Now, as I was saying earlier, you've been quite a naughty girl," He said silkily, tracing the outline of her jaw. "Killing you quickly seems like such a waste of a..." His eyes wandered over her form once again. "...truly exquisite body."

Illeythia fumed. "So not only are you a mongrel with about as much honour as the muck on my boots, but you're a pervert as well!" She snarled.

"Guilty as charged, lovely Illeythia. Now, I'm in quite the predicament. My friends will demand retribution for your crimes and they're more of the eating humans variety than the..." He smiled down at her, "make love not warcraft variety if you get my drift. But I'm quite fond of having human women in my bed and would love to catch up with you and your friend. Perhaps I could argue for lenience if you would submit yourself to me. " His voice trailed off as Illeythia made a sound of disgust.

"In what world do you live, Zariah? I would rather die than willingly sleep with a member of the horde." Illeythia felt rage begin to bubble deep inside her as she felt the wire that bound her wrists begin to give.

Her obviously reluctance to submit to the demanding blood elf earned her a few jeers from the group of men near the mouth of the cave. Zariah smirked and turned to his party, laughing as he waved his hand, acknowledging their cheers. He then moved the hand that held her wrists into her long, raven locks, yanking so hard that Illeythia gasped. The elf licked and nibbled up the vulnerable expanse of the warriors throat until his face was directly beside her ear.

"I could force you, lovely Illeythia, but what fun would that be? I may be a sadist but I do enjoy my women willing. What would make you more willing, hm?" His other hand trailed down the front of her body, tracing the outline of her breasts and stomach, raising gooseflesh as he stopped just above her nether region. Illeythia bit back a groan as her body began to react to his skilled hands.

_What the fel was going on here? _Illeythia wondered as her nipples hardened. By the light! She would _**not **_become aroused at the hands of a filthy, floppy eared rapist.

"But then again, maybe being restrained _is _your poison? Light knows you wouldn't be the first woman I've encountered with that particular preference..." He murmured, his fingers playing along the edge of her leather breeches.

It was then Illeythia heard commotion from beyond where the rogue had her pinned. The same men who had cheering only moments before were now screaming with alarm. She looked past Zariah's face to see that the rest of his party was scrambling around wildly, fighting something that was snarling madly and crackling with electricity.

_Ria...? _Illeythia thought as she saw a giant, ghostly wolf leap from the ground and sink its fangs into a hapless troll's throat. The wolf was massive, its mouth frothing with saliva and blood, its eyes shone like twin moons, glittering with malice. It jerked its head back, snapping the troll's neck and severing an artery as blood spurted into the cool, humid air. As the monolithic beast finished killing the troll, it lifted its giant head and let out a bone chilling howl, sending the surviving would-be assailants fleeing with panic.

As the horde members scampered closer to Illeythia, the wolf's fur began to move as if it were comprised solely of liquid. Its limbs elongated, its snout shortened and skin the colour of dew-soaked waterlilies flowed over the shifting bones like a tidal wave. A tall draenei suddenly stood before the shocked onlookers, her mail armour soaked with blood, her eyes alight with feral hatred, her clawed hands clutching a gnarled wooden staff adorned with amethyst coloured jewels. Ria threw back her head and shrieked something in her native tongue and Illeythia's eyes widened as orbs of lightening encircled the shaman and flaming totems appeared at her cloven feet.

""Get. Away. From. My. Friend," Ria growled, her hands illuminating with amber energy, her clipped words promising pain.

As Zariah turned his head to address the rampaging shaman, Illeythia reacted instinctively. She used her chest to shove him off balance, knowing that as a rogue he wouldn't be surprised for long, and rolled out from underneath his body. He caught himself quickly, his hands cushioning his fall as he gracefully jumped to his feet. Ria smiled at the astonished elf as she flexed her wrists, the softly glowing light in her palms quickly becoming balls of lava the size of boulders.

"_Sinu a'manore__, _you cowardly worm!" She shrieked and launched the flaming orbs directly at Zariah's head just before he vanished into thin air. Ria screamed in frustration but quickly regained her composure as she noticed that the few remaining horde had gathered weapons and were beginning to advance upon her with caution.

"Illeythia!" Ria yelled, her hands gently arching as she once again summoned fire. "We gotta go!" An orc wielding a crude spiked club suddenly charged the shaman. Before he could reach her, she ignited his body with fire and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain as his skin was flayed from his body.

"I'm working on it!" Illeythia grunted, feeling the familiar hum of adrenaline as it surged through her veins. She gave a final yank and freed her wrists. Stumbling to her feet while trying not to choke on the wretched stench of scorched flesh, she yelped as a she felt a strong arm wrap around her midsection, effectively locking her in a vice grip. Before she could say a word, she felt a hand clamp over her mouth and cool breath on her neck.

"I'll be seeing you soon, love."

And just as quick as she had been ambushed, she was free again. Her vision blurred from smoke, her throat aching and her wrists bleeding. "Ria!" Illeythia croaked, her arms waving wildly as she pushed through the panicked horde towards her friend. Just as she was about to fall to her knees, she felt a strong pair of arms pull her into an ample chest.

"What did you tell me the day we met?" Ria asked, her white eyes never leaving the face of an undead man as he snarled at her, a sword clutched in his bony hands.

Illeythia's brain was foggy but she smiled as she remembered her first words to the shaman. "It's not the size of the dog in the fight..." She murmured, her heart beating rapidly as the remaining members of the horde surrounded the two women.

"But the size of the fight in the dog..." Ria growled out as the temperature in the cave plummeted, the air above the shaman crackling with energy and the sound of thunder rumbled through the cave, shaking the ground they stood upon. She grinned down at Illeythia and flashed her fangs at their aggressors.

"I was born to fight!" The shaman screamed, her deafening battle cry accompanied by a brilliant bolt of white lightening that erupted from the storm above her head and hit the ground at her feet, throwing the surviving members of the horde against the walls of the cave with the force of a hurricane.

"By the light..." Illeythia swore as she watched wisps of smoke slowly drift up from the electrocuted bodies of her assailants. She pushed away from Ria's chest to survey the damage but was interrupted when her friend grabbed her arm and jerked her towards the mouth of the cave.

"No time for sightseeing, Illeythia! We need to move. If they found us, many more could be on their way." The shaman transformed into the large wolf that Illeythia had seen attack the troll and began trotting quickly towards the entrance.

"My stuff..." Illeythia moaned but was silenced by a snarl from up ahead. The wolf had turned to look at her with what appeared to be a frown of disapproval on its canine features. Illeythia held up her hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright. I can get new stuff." she sighed as the tall wolf loped out into the morning sun. The air outside the mine was cool and clean and Illeythia paused briefly to inhale the sweet scent of the earth after a long rain. She brightened visibly as a thought popped into her head.

"Hey, aren't you a blacksmith?"

* * *

As the two women made their way to the winding path that would eventually lead them to Trollbane Hall, a lone figure stood stealthed in the shade cast by the looming cliff of jagged rocks adjacent to the mine. Zariah had escaped just moments before the shaman had blown the rest of his party to pieces with her thunderstorm trick.

It had been such a random act of fate that he would stumble across the warrior during his time in the basin. When his group had attacked the mine, he had anticipated finding some meek gnomish engineers grinding for supplies, but when he recognized the slumbering warrior, he wondered if she could lead him to the priestess who was at the center of so many rumours in Orgrimmar.

He sighed. He hadn't meant to terrify Illeythia or assert himself upon her, but he recognized that if he didn't make his intentions appear realistic in front of his companions, it would rouse their suspicions. Certainly he enjoyed making women blush as much as the next man, but he found the concept of force to be repugnant. If there was anything that the rogue found appealing, it was winning a bet fair and square. He had certainly challenged a few women in his lifetime to get what he wanted from them.

Zariah was a well-established proprietor dabbling in rare gems, antiques, and occasionally when the opportunity arose, bounty hunting. He had made quite a name for himself within certain circles, capturing some of the most wanted criminals in Azeroth. Yet, he yearned for an adventure where the conclusion of the story remained unwritten. In his long lifetime he had played roles ranging from assassin to thief to lover to guardian. But revolutionary? That was a part of Azeroth's history from which he had been notably absent. Oh, yes, he was certainly in the market for an adventure.

As his keen elven eyesight followed the two women until they became distant dots on the horizon, he had a feeling that the little warrior and her friends may just provide one.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set as Illeythia and Ria reached the fork in the road just beyond stables that would lead them to Trollbane Hall. They had been walking all day and were relieved to see the blue and gold banner of the Alliance proudly marking the weather-beaten barn.

The pale wolf at Illeythia's side shivered as it transformed into Ria's humanoid form, orbs of lightening surrounding the shaman as she rebuffed herself. "What will you do?" She asked the warrior, anxiously awaiting her response after a long afternoon of listening to Illeythia recount the events that had transpired in the mine.

Illeythia stared off into the distance, watching as the sun slowly sunk beneath the horizon and swathes of muted oranges and violets bathed the terrain in the promise of coming night.

"I'm going to Warsong Gulch, Ria, and on my way, I'm going to find out what the fel is going on."


	4. Chapter 4

_Tap_.

Athene awoke suddenly, her mind fogged with slumber as her vision adjusted to the now darkened room. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peered out into the main living quarters. Something had roused her from rest, but what? She stood, brushing the wrinkles from her robes and cautiously left the small nook.

It was late – very late in fact – and the main hall which was usually full of boisterous laughter was eerily silent. _Where is everyone? _She wondered after quickly surveying the Hold. There was no sign of anyone in her party and even if something terrible had happened to her unit, where was Aris? She doubted very much that anyone was capable of harming the skilled rogue.

Athene paused to grab a pack of matches from atop a weathered keg. Striking the match against the cool stones of the fortress, she lit a stout white candle that hung from the wall in burnished brass candelabrum. There was something in the way the shadows shifted in the room that made her uneasy, it was almost as if they were alive...

_Tap_.

Her head jerked to the right, desperately searching the darkness for the source of the sound. The silence in the room became deafening as the racing of her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

"Hello?" She whispered, her hands reaching into darkness, frantically grasping at something she couldn't find. Her legs trembling in fear as she inched forward towards the sound, her silk wrapped feet shuffling so softly that the only noise emitted from her were ragged, terrified gasps of air. Just as Athene was about to dismiss the noise as her overactive imagination, the air shifted behind her and she stiffened as she felt the touch of a cool blade against her throat.

"Oh, Athene, we _need_ to stop meeting like this," Chuckled a silky voice while a hand smoothed over her rumpled robe.

Athene gasped as memories from the day at Crystal lake flooded her with simultaneous terror and desire. It was _him_! The man for whom her esteemed reputation as a healer could be accredited. The man who had haunted her dreams for the past seven years with his unearthly beauty and aura of danger. There wasn't a week that passed where Athene didn't dream of their haphazard embrace that sweltering July morning and of the savage kiss that ended far too quickly for her liking...

But Athene had long given up on romanticizing this moment – the moment where she would meet this man again – she had spent the last year gaining more knowledge in the deadly art of shadow magic and she was no shrinking violet or maiden in distress. She was a battle priestess and by the blessed light she would act like one.

"If you've come to teach me the ways of men, I'm afraid you're too late," The trapped priestess remarked, her voice thick with sarcasm. If the rogue wanted to play, she'd be more than willing. Her hand wandered down to trinket that hung loosely from her belt. If she could reach it, she could tap a spell that would send the elf screaming in fear for at least five seconds – long enough for her to summon a powerful incantation that would sear his body with holy fire.

The hand just below her breasts tightened as the strong body behind her shook with laughter. "Oh, Athene, you silly girl! There are always new tricks to be taught," His hand crept down her stomach in agonizingly slow, teasing strokes. "New pleasures to be discovered." He whispered into her ear, his warm breath causing gooseflesh on her neck.

Athene groaned inwardly – while she couldn't deny that she had undoubtedly waited for this moment for years – she certainly wasn't going to take the rogue's advances without dishing out a few of her own. Her fingers grasped the trinket at her waist and she ran her thumb over the small, crystalline skull. The rogue behind her suddenly froze, his body tensing as he felt the echoes of magic as Athene began to silently cast her fear spell.

"You want to spar, elf? Alright, I'll give you a fight!" The priestess spat as the trinket between her fingers came alive; illuminating the darkened room, bathing it in bright blue light and sending the rogue running in fear. Her hands began to glow with soft, golden power as she cast a quick spell that would shield her body from harm. The elf was completely unveiled now and Athene saw that it was indeed the same man she met years ago. His long, beautiful pale blonde hair was now tied into a messy topknot, and even though his features were temporarily disfigured due to Athene's spell, she could still discern the strong jawline, aristocratic nose and sculpted cheekbones. His lean body was still built for stealth and speed, cloaked in black leathers. Her body flushed in recognition but she was quick to stifle her desire as the elf suddenly vanished.

Athene's face darkened, "You rogues are cowards, you know that? Always hiding from a fair fight, always skulking in the shadows! What's wrong, elf? Afraid of a human priest?" She mocked, her hands still cupping pale, holy fire. When her taunts failed to goad the rogue out of his hiding place, she lowered her hands slightly and snorted in disgust.

"Well, then! I guess I'll just be off to bed seeing as how someone is too chi-"

Sap.

Athene felt the tension drain from her limbs as her body slumped forward. _You just had to irritate him, didn't you? _She thought as she felt a cool hand lift her chin. She was suddenly face to face with the elf, his eyes alight with mischief as he flashed her a wolfish grin.

"I seem to have you at several disadvantages at the moment, love" He said, brushing the hair out of her eyes so she could see his amused expression. "Aside from having you very much at my disposal, I know your name. Would you like to know mine?" He laughed when he realized she couldn't answer him. "Well, I'll have to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you are curious. I'm Zariah Dawnbreaker, and you – Sweet Athene – are in a heap of trouble."

* * *

It was hot.

Not like the gentle summers of his homeland, Teldrassil or even the humid, scorching days alongside the Auberdine shoreline, no, this was a dry heat. A heat so fierce it could rival the burning sands of Tenaris in mid July. But it wasn't just the oppressive heat that worried Aris, oh no, the heat should be the least of his worries right now.

He'd been ambushed.

Aris had been scoping out the fields when he'd heard a feminine giggle behind him. At his vantage point, perched atop the ridge at the mouth of the Silverwing Tunnel, he'd been shocked to hear anything at all. Upon turning, he saw the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes upon. The woman was as pale as the surface of the moon, her almond shaped eyes teasing him as her tongue flicked out of her full, lush mouth and traced her bottom lip. She beckoned him closer, on all fours, as she leaned towards him on the grassy knoll. Her bosom was heaving as sounds of intimate pleasure slid seductively from her lips. Aris reached for her like a dying man would a life preserver, and then she giggled again and his world had gone black.

And now he was here. Except, he didn't know where here was. His head had been covered in a burlap sack, and the only things he could hear occasionally were the sound of hushed voices and soft footfalls. His arms and legs were bound in what felt like frostweave cuffs – so cold they burned into the Night Elf's skin. He was definitely strapped to a chair, as he was sitting in an upright position. Aris strained as his bonds when he heard a door open and close and the sound of...hooves?

He felt a soft pair of hands caress his chest and then slide around his neck. He grunted as the hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently and then he heard a familiar giggle.

"Hello, handsome," A beautifully feminine voice purred in his ear and he jerked his head back instinctively.

"Oh, dear. Silly me. You must be so _uncomfortable_ in this heat with this ugly old sack on your head." The voice teased. Aris then felt the hands slide from his hair and slip the bag over his head. He was stunned to see that the voice didn't belong to a woman at all, but to a _demon_.

The succubus grinned at the Night Elf's admonished expression. "What? Expecting something more..." She purred into his neck, "Human?"

Aris remained unmoved. The situation hadn't changed much; he had believed that his captors were members of the Horde but if they were demonic...so be it. "Why am I here, witch?" He bit out, glaring at the succubus with restrained fury.

The succubus shrugged her dainty shoulders and poked his nose with the tip of her tail. "Why are any of us here? Some say we were created by a great fire thousands of years ago..." She rolled her heavily made-up eyes skyward and then snuggled into Aris' lap. "...But what some say is of little interest to us demons. We're more motivated by pain," she paused, gauging the Night Elf's reaction, "And pleasure." She gyrated her hips suggestively.

"Enough of this!" Aris boomed, startling the demon out of his lap. He watched as she stumbled backwards into the darkened room, obviously shocked by his outburst. "Why am I here? What is it that you want from me? If it's information you're after, I'm afraid you'll be-" The Night Elf's eyes widened as the succubus returned to him, her clawed fingers clutching his chin, tilting his head so he could meet her glowing eyes.

"Honey, I've been in thousands of these sessions and trust me, if Hadis wants you to talk, you will." She whispered, lowering her eyes. Aris suddenly understood: The succubus was in the same position he was. She was being held here against her will.

"Who in the holy fel is Hadis? Demon, if you release me I promise to help you," The rogue swore, his golden eyes never leaving the succubus' face. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted when a door audibly opened and closed. Her face crumpled and she slid to the floor in front of the bound night elf, hiding her face in his lap.

A tall blood elf stood at the door. Shadows from the fireplace played across the planes of his chiseled face. He was pale and lithely built, slender, but from the way he moved Aris could tell that there was muscle under the flowing, violet robes. His hair was so black that it appeared to be outlined in deep shades of purples, his eyes glowed brightly in the darkness with fel magic, his lips full and wistful. His pensive gaze fell upon the cowering demon.

"Lythia, what _are_ you doing with our guest?" The striking man asked, entering the room with a languid, feline grace. He paused as he reached the enormous roll top desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms while staring intently at the dejected demon.

_By Elune's blood...He's a warlock! _Aris shivered as the blood elf's magic crept into the room, encouraged by his silent fury.

"I thought I could have some fun…what harm is a little fun?" She sulked, pouting her lips and bowing her head submissively. The man sighed heavily and gestured for the demon to approach him. For a moment, the succubus appeared terrified. Her almond eyes wide with fear and her lush mouth agape but she recovered quickly and hissed sharply, clinging to Aris' legs as if his body alone could shield her from the warlock's anger.

_ What the fel could a mere man do to cause such a reaction in a demon_? Aris wondered as Lythia rubbed her chin against his thighs, careful to avoid the steady gaze of her master.

"Oh, come now, Lythia. You wouldn't want to make a scene in front of our guest, would you?" The warlock chided, his words dripping with derision.

The succubus pouted as she reluctantly slunk away from the bound Night Elf, heeding her master's warning. She approached the warlock cautiously, her hands wringing her tail anxiously as she knelt before him. He smiled down at the submissive demon while stroking her hair absentmindedly. Lythia purred appreciatively and curled around the warlock's legs, her hands reaching for the silken drawstrings at his waist.

"I know how to make it _alllll_ better…" She drawled, her luscious lips curving into a wicked grin while her nimble fingers began stroking a long, sensuous line down his inner thigh.

As quick as a striking snake, his pale fingers locked around her hand, and judging by Lythia's pained expression, his grip was anything but gentle.

"You know this room isn't for pleasure, Lythia." He warned, his fel green eyes flaring with cold precision as his eyesight remained steady on Aris' face. The succubus' eyes lowered immediately and she nodded her head. "Yes, master." Her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room. The warlock made a dismissive gesture with his hand and Lythia rose from the floor and quickly walked towards the door.

"Is there anything else you'll be needing, master?" She asked, her eyes still lowered in submission. The warlock clicked his tongue and strode from the desk so that he towered over the subdued night elf.

"Bring me Persif'oni."

* * *

"What are you talking about? I'm not an activist!" Athene said in blatant bewilderment. _How could this be?_ She wondered. If what Zariah said was true then she was indeed in a heap of trouble. She sat on the ground, her previous hostile demeanour washed away in a flood adrenaline and fear.

With their spat since forgotten, Zariah knelt beside the puzzled priestess and placed his hand on shoulder. "I'm not here to hand you over, Athene. I'm here to help you – and whether or not you believe me, they're coming. Right now." He said, his eyes keenly watching the doors to the hold, scanning for signs of movement.

"But…I don't understand! That story was never meant for public viewing! It's a fable, for light's sake! It wasn't meant to build bridges between the horde and the alliance! It was meant to give…" Athene shook her head. "Why should I believe any of this? Why should I believe the words of a blood elf who randomly shows up – _uninvited_ - and gropes me! For all I know, you're working with these…these…radicals! Maybe _you_ want to bring me to them!" She accused, rising from the ground, her fists clenched against her sides.

Zariah stared at her solemnly. "Athene, they _are_ coming for you. Why do you think the alliance has made such unprecedented advances in the Gulch? Why have your skills as a healer been deemed unnecessary in this battleground yet…" He made a broad, sweeping gesture with his arms. "Here you remain." He approached the confused priestess and placed a hand gently under her chin, forcing her to meet his steady gaze. "You being stationed here, your unit's sweeping victories, your guard's disappearance…" Athene's head jerked away from Zariah's hand as he mentioned Aris. "It was all planned, Athene. It was all planned to isolate you and then capture you."

Athene felt hot, angry tears slide down her cheeks as she crossed her arms. "What will they do with Aris? With the members of my party? What will become of us?" She whispered, her heart feeling as though it were breaking apart in her chest.

"Hadis is not known for his compassion, Athene. If your guard was captured by his people – as I suspect he was – and brought before Hadis, then I fear your rogue has already met his demise. Surely the same fate awaits your party. We must leave if you wish to live." Zariah's thumb gently traced Athene's cheeks as he wiped away a tear from the flushed priestess' face. "This is not your fault."

Athene could have handled anything at the moment; pain, anger, betrayal…but the elf's act of kindness was almost too much for her to bear. She collapsed against his chest and sobbed. All she had wanted was to go home but how could she go home when she was considered a revolutionary? It didn't matter that the entire situation hinged upon unintentional circumstances; everyone she had ever known would be hunted to the end of their days should she decide to return to Northshire Valley and reveal their whereabouts.

_But why is he helping me?_ Athene wondered as she lifted her head from Zariah's chest. She sneaked a glance at his face and found his expression calm, attentive, even a bit intuitive. He wasn't leering or trying to cop a feel, his concern for her was genuine and puzzling.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?" She asked quietly, pulling away from him and regaining her composure. _This_ _is not how battle priestesses behave_, she thought priggishly as she smoothed her robes and ran slender fingers through her honey blonde locks.

Zariah shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled sadly. "When you wrote the War Song, did you believe those words or was it all just a fairy tale meant for younglings and naive farm girls?" Humor danced in his glowing green eyes.

"_Of course_ I believed in them but that isn't the-" Athene's exasperated rant was cut short as Zariah abruptly closed the distance between them and held her, once again, is his strong arms. He gazed down at her, that haunting smile still on his beautiful face.

"I have been many things in my long life, Athene, but not once have I had the chance to influence the entire well-being of Azeroth. If you truly meant those words- even without recognizing the reach and weight of them - then I wish nothing more than to be at your service." He finished, his gaze steady upon the priestess' face.

"But…how could someone like you ever be of any service to someone like me?" Athene asked as she pulled away from the rogue, confusion clouding her eyes. How could she trust someone like Zariah? He was an admitted criminal and had no allegiance to anything or anyone. _Except me… s_he thought and shivered inwardly.

Zariah grinned devilishly and winked down at Athene. "Oh, I could be of service in so many ways, priestess, but we haven't the time. We need to leave immediately"

Athene was about to make a snide retort when she heard a series of loud booms. Her body froze in terror as she backed away from the tunnel that lead to the bloodied fields of Warsong Gulch. "What is that?" She whispered, her voice trembling with fear. Zariah's eyes were glued to the tunnel as well, his calloused hands gripped the poisoned daggers at his side, his lips parted slightly and his expression grim.

"Kodo battering rams. We're too late. They're here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate people taking the time to make suggestions and provide constructive criticism. I've always enjoyed the art of storytelling and I'm ever so grateful that you guys are willing to stand by as I smooth out the bumps ^_^**

**ALSO: I've actually edited the story to have dividing lines between POVs but for some reason, they're not displaying properly on FFN. Halp the newb?**

**And finally…**

**Going forward, this story will be rated M for violence, gore and adult situations. There will be a noncon scene, but I'll issue a trigger warning on that particular chapter. **

**Thank you for reading :3  
**

* * *

"Quickly! You need to drink this!" Zariah fumbled in his leather pouch and pulled out a vial of clear liquid, thrusting the potion into Athene's astonished face. She jerked away from his grasp and swatted at the vial, her eyes narrowed in anger.

"Let them come! I _dare_ them! If they harmed a single hair on Aris' head I shall -" Athene screamed in frustration, her holy magic flaring, sending golden sparks into the opaque darkness. Zariah grabbed her hand and yanked her to his chest. "You _will_ take the potion, Athene, even if I have to pour it down your throat!" He threatened as he swiftly removed the cap with agile fingers.

_ I wonder what else he can...Fel's Bells, Athene! You're about to die and you're thinking about sex? What kind of priestess are you? _Her subconscious scolded as her body flushed with heat.

Athene gasped as she heard yet another series of loud booms. She could hear voices now, faintly in the distance. She looked at the vial and back at Zariah. "What will it do to me?" She asked, her voice clear.

The rogue nodded at the potion. "It will place you in a temporal rift which will only last an hour at most. You will go unnoticed by their fel hounds, by their mages and by their magics. You will be completely invisible."

Athene shook her head and peered up at the anxious rogue. "What about you? What will you do?" She asked, her hands tentatively drifting to Zariah's face. He grinned wolfishly at her as she took the potion from his slender fingers.

"What I do best, sweet priestess." The rogue remarked as he turned towards the tunnel again. Athene looked at the potion and then back at Zariah's perfect profile. His pale, blonde hair had become tussled in their fight, and now it fell haphazardly around his broad shoulders, creating a golden halo around his sun kissed face.

_Oh, what the fel! _She thought as she pulled his shoulder so he turned back to her. She grabbed his face in both of her hands and pushed her lips against his open mouth. The rogue was quick to return her kiss with a ferocity of his own. His tongue played against hers, his teeth gently nibbling on her bottom lip. He ended the kiss as abruptly as she had begun it. "I assure you, Athene, this wont be the last time you see me," He pressed his lips against her cool forehead. "Nor will it be the last time we do this." His voice dropped seductively and Athene felt a deep fluttering in her stomach as she nodded.

"Til next we meet, Zariah. May the blessed light protect you when and where I cannot." She raised the potion skyward and made a mock toast. "Bottoms up," She brought the vial to her lips and blinked out of existence.

* * *

Zariah watched from the third story of Silverwing Hold as a small army of Horde descended upon the fortress. They scoured every nook, shadow and cubbyhole for the priestess and were flabbergasted when they came up empty handed. The elf was perched atop a cobbled ledge as he watched several undead warlocks drag snarling fel hounds throughout the compound. The sight alarmed him slightly, as fel hounds were notorious hunters and had been known to sense and dispel magic.

_ Hopefully the spell scrambler 5000 stands up to its name,_ Zariah thought, running his thumb over the gnomish device that was currently pinned to the inside of his left pocket. His long ears twitched suddenly and he fell into a crouch as he heard the distinct sound of plate boots on the gritty cobblestones behind him.

"Where she be at, rogue?"

The blood elf turned to see that a tall, muscular, troll warrior was standing behind him, flanked by two undead warlocks. The troll was at least eight feet tall and was covered head to toe in saronite. His weapon of choice was a large, blood-stained claymore that glowed eerily in the darkness and was obviously heavily enchanted. The warlocks were shadowy figures, mere clothe and bones but they reeked of heady black magic. The one to the left of the warrior was wearing a pair of sensory deprivation goggles, his skeletal hands moved gracefully in the darkness as he checked for charms of illusion. The other warlock struggled to keep his snarling fel hound at bay as it gnashed its teeth at the rogue.

Zariah shrugged his shoulders and looked off into the distance. Even in the pale moonlight, his keen eyesight could discern that the grassy hills of the gulch were slick with bloodshed. _So much for any alliance survivors,_ Zariah thought bitterly as the troll approached him, malice glittering in his red eyes.

"You know who it be dat we serve, rogue. And if we be finding out that you been lying about knowing where dis priestess is, there be fel to pay," The troll's hot, fetid breath stank of rotten meat as he loomed over the blood elf.

"I thought she was here, Zin, all of my informants pointed to her being stationed here."  
Zariah began smoothly. The elf pointed out to the fields of the gulch and gestured back towards the aggravated troll. "How certain can you be that one of your cretins didn't slaughter her with the rest of her team? Would there even be enough left of her to find?"

Zin laughed harshly as the warlocks behind him fidgeted nervously. "Oh, funny elf! We don't kill no women in da field, you know dis. We bring dem back to Hadis. But…" He leaned forward into Zariah's face, his red eyes narrowing in blatant disdain. "You know dis, already. My sources tell me you used his farm once or twice, eh?"

Zariah fought to keep his expression blank as his gut lurched in distaste. Hadis Felfire was one of the most feared warlocks in all of Azeroth and his position of power was obtained by brutal treachery and his notoriously strong stomach for gruesome torture. He was rumoured to be Garrosh Hellscream's right hand inquisitor but was also said to have his well manicured hands in other nefarious deeds. Although Zariah himself had never seen Hadis' farm, he knew well of it. Blood Elves were infamously known for their addiction to magic and deep beneath the Warsong Lumber Mill, Hadis had his own personal supply.

"How I get my fix is not your concern, Zin." The elf growled menacingly, his hands instinctively falling to the curved, poisoned daggers at his side. He knew that time was running short on the temporal displacement spell and that if this troll wanted a knock-down-drag-out fight, then he'd be willing to offer one.

The soft clearing of a throat suddenly made both the elf and troll jerk their heads towards the sound. The goggled warlock took a rapid step back from both of them and tapped his chest nervously.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your friendly banter gentlemen, but I do think that we have a problem here that requires some attention." The warlock croaked. He had his pale, skeletal hands spread out before him, as if he were feeling for a weak spot in a wall.

The troll turned and snarled at his undead companion, "What be da problem, Siran? Make dis quick!" He replied gruffly, his red eyes narrowing as he saw that the blood elf's hands were now firmly gripping his daggers.

The undead warlock tilted his head as the goggles over his eyes whirred rapidly as if they were trying to adjust to the right frequency. "There's something here…a spell!" The warlock gasped, his bony fingers began to dance frantically as the goggles shifted colours.

Zariah's body became as still as stone as he watched the warlock work. He knew intuitively that if forced he could handle all three of the miscreants before him. The locks would be easy enough to down, ambushing them with a few kidney shots would do the trick. But the warrior could prove to be a problem, and the elf doubted very much that he had enough time to handle all three before the temporal displacement spell expired.

The troll's narrowed red eyes blazed with righteous fury. "I knew it! I knew dat you be a traitor—"He began, his large, plated fists dropping to his right side, drawing his massive claymore as he advanced upon the crouched elf.

Zariah snorted derisively as he prepared for combat with the giant troll. "Fine words coming from a cannibal! But if it's a fight you're after, it's a fight you'll get." He grinned viciously at Zin. Just as the rogue was about to shadowstep behind the fidgety warlock who was having a fel of a time controlling his hound, the goggled warlock clicked his tongue and lowered his arms in defeat.

"I…I don't understand…it was just here!" He sputtered, his hands twitching nervously by his side, his head twisting wildly as he frenetically adjusted the settings on his goggles. No matter what the warlock did, the goggles remained dim and motionless. He cursed and ripped them from his head. He looked up at the troll and blood elf who were now regarding him with intense interest.

"What be gone, Siran?" The large troll growled, his enormous hands curling into fists as he sheathed his sword.

The warlock stumbled to the ground as he tried to scamper away from the advancing troll's rage. "It's gone, sir. I'm so terribly sorry but the spell has evaporated!" The warlock dissolved into a sobbing puddle of tears and bones as he begged for mercy from the infuriated troll.

Zin snarled at the warlock's companion who paled considerably; a fine trick for an undead. "Go search da hold again, now!" The warlock seized his fel hound by the collar and ran towards the winding walkway that trailed down to the second level of the fortress. The troll turned and sneered at the crouching blood elf, his tusks glinting wickedly in the moonlight.

"When I come back, we finish dis, rogue." He spat and stormed from the alcove, his heavy footfalls sending bits of grit and rock into the cool, night air.

Zariah's brow furrowed as he pondered the warlock's words. If the warlock could no longer sense the spell then…The elf's eyes widened in realization.

"Oh, by Arthas' icy balls!" The rogue swore as he sprinted towards the balcony that overlooked the main entrance room, silently praying he wasn't too late.

* * *

Athene gasped as she felt her body wink back into existence. Her fingers trembled as she dragged them through her messy blonde locks. She let out a low groan as she anxiously checked the rest of her body.

_ Oh, bless the light! I'm in one piece! _She thought, her eyes still adjusting to the obsidian darkness. She _thought_ she could see ten fingers and she _thought_ she could wiggle all of her toes... Well, she was almost certain she was in one piece. The priestess frowned as the distant sound of foreign voices rose throughout Silverwing Hold.

_ I don't recognize that lang… _Athene's blue eyes widened in terror as the memories of the past few hours washed over her body. _Oh gods_, she thought. _They're inside the hold!_ She could hear the voices clearly now – one was definitely an undead as she had heard their dry, whispery voices once before. The other, she couldn't place. Whatever it was, it sounded massive. The voice was low, and echoed throughout the otherwise quiet fortress.

She fell to her knees at the entrance of the small cubbyhole where she once treated wounded soldiers. Her hands began quickly searching through the dishevelled items, ripping through packages of unused medical supplies, blankets and bandages to no avail. Where in the blasted fel did she leave it? Hot tears sprung to her eyes as she heard the distinctive snarl of a fel hound nearby. She shook her head defiantly and fumbled through her robes for her wand. If these were to be her last moments on earth, she wasn't going to go out like a mewling coward. She was going to go out fighting.

Athene stood abruptly as she heard the two male voices round the corner, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. She felt the familiar song of adrenaline begin deep within her body as she conjured a shield of light to protect her from harm. She began a low chant and her palms suddenly illuminated the darkened room with pale, holy power. Just has Athene started the incantation to summon holy fire, something tackled her and sent her sprawling into the darkened cubbyhole, interrupting her casting. She gasped as she felt a strong pair of hands wrap around her waist and saw a familiar blood elf profile shrouded by an even more familiar halo of pale blonde hair.

"Zariah!" She exclaimed in a whisper, overjoyed that the rogue had survived the assault. The blood elf grinned at her and placed a smooth, oval object in her palm and then folded her hands to his chest.

"Hold on tight, we're getting out of here," He whispered and just as the undead warlock and troll warrior entered the main room of Silverwing Hold, the rogue and priestess vanished into thin air.

* * *

When the two arrived at their designated transportation spot, they spawned on a sweetly scented bed of dewy grass. Zariah was the first to wake, noticing that the gnome had been right on the money with his navigational device. It had dropped them miles away from Silverwing Hold, in the densest thicket of woods one could expect, just as the rogue had requested. He yawned and peered down at the priestess in his arms. Athene was still deep asleep and Zariah took a moment to appreciate her quiet beauty.

The priestess was indeed beautiful. Her skin was a pale peaches and cream, flushed with the warmth of slumber. Her dark, thick eyelashes cast crescent shadows on her cheeks as she slept. Her nose was cute and upturned, almost elfin in appearance, and her full pink lips parted slightly. Her breathing was soft, and her ample bosom rose gently with each intake of breath. His eyes wandered down her still form and he smiled appreciatively at her subtle curves. He had always enjoyed the softness of humans and this one was no exception.

His mind began to drift as he imagined what the pretty priestess would sound like under his control. Zariah typically liked his women submissive, but Athene's spirit roused something deep within his body. He enjoyed the feisty priestess and he knew despite their verbal sparring she felt the same way. He had never been with a woman like Athene before. She was brave, intelligent, fierce and proud. She wasn't a one night stand or a fling, oh no, this enchanting woman was worthy of being called a life partner.

He slowly removed his arm from around Athene and gently climbed over her. He struggled to restrain his masculine urges as he positioned himself directly above her, his lips hovering over her milky white neck. Tentatively, he flicked his tongue against her pulse and inhaled her scent deeply, shuddering as her perfume invaded his senses. He froze as he felt her stir beneath him, her breathing becoming more rapid and her aura brightening. Athene blinked slowly up at the smiling rogue, her face clouded with sleep. He was about to whisper something in her ear, something low and husky in Thalassian perhaps, when the priestess suddenly sat up and elbowed him in the chest, causing him to roll back on his haunches and watch with amusement as she drank in the scenery around them.

With her hair mussed and her robes bunched uncomfortably, Athene sat stunned, her eyes wide and mouth agape and she looked around the forest in disbelief.

"Where in the fel are we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! I've been busy but I can assure you that I'm committed to finishing this story. Thank you for patiently waiting :-)**

Chapt 6

Illeythia glowered at the guard as he fumbled to give her directions to the Blue Recluse. _How many watering holes could be in a district full of stuffy mages,_ she wondered as the guard finally shrugged his shoulders and pointed in the general direction of yet another winding, grassy pathway. Illeythia fought the urge to clobber him with her mace as her friend, Ria, hissed between her teeth in exasperation and rolled her glowing white eyes skyward.

"Yeah you've been a reeeeeal big help, tin man." Illeythia muttered under her breath as Ria fumbled with their map, stopping to look in awe at the giant, spiralling building in the center of the district.

"How can you not know where this bar is, Illeythia? Didn't you grow up just a few miles from here?" Ria asked incredulously, her white eyes narrowing in accusation.

The warrior growled. "Don't blame this on me, Ria! Why the fel would I ever go to the mage district? I'm a warrior, for light's sake! My only time in Stormwind was spent drinking with the dwarves." She placed her hands on her temples and began to rub them gently_. By the light_, she thought, _will we ever find him?_

They had been advised by an informative gnome during their trek through Ironforge that if they were seeking more information on the 9th movement that they should seek out a man by the name of Thom Calmsky. Who apparently was felbent on spending the remainder of his days drunker than a rat that had fallen into a keg of dwarven stout.

"We are never going to find him." Illeythia groaned, smoothing her plate covered hands over her raven tresses. She was tired, dirty and hungry. They had been travelling for days, forgoing all creature comforts in an effort to travel as quickly as possible and now...they were lost in their own blasted home city. It would be hilarious if Illeythia didn't feel like bursting into tears. Her self-pitying was interrupted by a sharp gasp.

"Illeythia! Look! The Blue Recluse!" Ria exclaimed, hopping from hoof to hoof and wringing her hands.

Illeythia glanced up and shielded her eyes from the midday sun. Sure enough, nestled in beside the winding stone pathway that lead to the Mage tower, was a small pub with a patio full of inebriated patrons. A heavy wooden sign with the words, "The Blue Recluse' hung above an open doorway that led into a darkened tavern. Illeythia's shoulders sagged as she sighed with relief. _Thank the light.._. She thought as she began weaving in between the boisterous drunks as they jeered and clanked their steins in joyous reverie. She glanced back to make a snide comment about a particularly grabby gnome when she saw that Ria had collapsed in the grass, her hands clasped together and glowing white eyes rolled skywards. Illeythia immediately charged over.

"Are you _praying_? Get up! You're embarrassing yourself!" Illeythia seethed as she poked the melodramatic kneeling draenei in the arm.

Ria made a small religious gesture at chest level and then glared at the irritated warrior. "The Naruu bless us today, even in spite of these hedonistic humans." She sniffed as Illeythia dragged her to her feet towards the bar.

"Did you hit your head when your people crashed into this planet?" Illeythia hissed, her hand firmly clamped on the shaman's arm. Her friend's dramatic antics usually brought a smile to the warrior's face, but she was stressed and felt a sense of urgency in warning Athene about the oncoming onslaught that awaited the priestess in the gulch. She shook Ria's arm a bit before the shaman shrugged her off and sighed as the two entered the darkened bar.

The Blue Recluse was supposedly a tavern where the intellectuals in Stormwind gathered to chat about new magical theories, politics and occasionally high society gossip, but what it really looked like was any other place where people with too much time and money spent both in excess. Illeythia's nose wrinkled as the musky scent of sweat, filthy gear and alcohol assaulted her senses. She quickly placed a hand over her mouth as Ria gently patted her on the back.

"Y'know, I need to retrain anyway, Illeythia, why don't we meet in the Trade District after you've finished with Thom?" She brightened visibly as she suddenly remembered that she had a legitimate excuse to avoid remaining in the bar.

Illeythia sighed as she peered into the bar, scanning the patrons for someone who met Thom's description. _Nope, no one with gold, wire rimmed glasses or a..._She yelped as a wooden chair suddenly smashed against the wall beside her and shattered into splinters. She immediately fell into a defensive stance and pushed Ria back towards the door. The shaman smacked her hand away and grabbed her maces, dropping a totem that flared with lava, illuminating the darkened room.

"Maybe I'll just hang around after all." Ria grinned, her white eyes narrowing at the angry dwarf who had thrown the chair at the wall. He was stout, with a shiny bald head and a scruffy grey beard. His leathers were dishevelled and in his hands, was a wickedly carved bow with an arrow pointed at the throat of an elderly man who was currently pinned to the grubby floor by a snarling bear.

Illeythia sheathed her claymore and approached the two men cautiously, her hands extended in placation and her steps slow. "Now gentlemen, The Blue Recluse has a good reputation in Stormwind. It would be a shame for a small disagreement to ruin that, right? And no one wants to spend a night in the stockade..." Her voice trailed off as she looked to the stunned bartender who nervously bobbed his head in agreement.

"Tha-that's right. You'd do well to curb your temper and listen to the nice ladies," The bartender gulped, his hand reaching for something beneath the bar.

Ria snorted and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "We're not nice and you don't need that beating stick, barkeep." She smiled unkindly at the fidgeting man who gasped in astonishment and jerked his hand back as if it had been burnt.

"Ho-how did you know?" He stammered as Ria hopped up on the bar and inspected a half empty glass of brew that had been discarded. She brought the stein to her nose and her features wrinkled in disgust.

"How do you make money selling this swill?" She remarked and sighed as the man was still regarding her skeptically. "Oh, how did I know you were using us as a distraction in the hopes of bludgeoning that hunter? The spirits told me." She smirked as she shimmied over to the bartender and bopped his nose with the tip of her finger. "You know, draenei and all. The _Naruu_." Her voice hushed and her eyes became serious, as if she was sharing a most sacred secret with a prized companion.

The dwarf grunted and placed his grimy fingers in his mouth. A sharp whistle cut through the tension in the room and the bear that had been snarling threateningly suddenly became as passive as a well trained dog. "This foul fart be a friend of yours?" The hunter asked, sheathing his bow and plucking a trinket from the floor.

Illeythia's eyes widened as she realized what had transpired between the two disgruntled men. She turned to the barkeep and frowned. "Gambling? Gambling is strictly prohibited inside Stormwind. Maybe these two ruffians wont be spending the night in the stocks alone." She huffed.

The barkeep reddened. "I make an honest living here, ma'am. A little bit of gambling never hurt no one." He cleared his throat and remained indignant while Ria scoffed.

"That man almost got his face ripped to shreds by a bear – and what the fel is a bear doing in a bar anyway – and you still think a bit o' fun never hurt no one?" She mocked, her voice lit with scorn as she reached over the bar and plucked up a bottle of Dalaran's finest red wine. "We'll be taking this – you know, for our silence." She smiled sweetly.

The dwarf had since gathered his belongings and tossed a few silver coins on the bar as he tapped his fist against the soiled counter top. "See to it that I never see that cheating cunt in here again, would ye? Cause if I do, his blood'll be on yer hands." His bear growled menacingly as if to reiterate the point.

The bartender nodded. "Anytime, Alvin. I'm sorry for the trouble. Next time you're in I'll see to it that you get a round on the house."

The dwarf seemed appeased by this and bobbed his head in acknowledgement. He turned to Illeythia and Ria and tipped an imaginary hat. "Ladies." The bear snarled once at Ria who hissed in return as the two meandered out of the darkened tavern.

Illeythia sighed as she turned back to the bartender with the gnome's description of Thom on her lips when the barkeep suddenly slammed his hammy fist on the counter and grunted.

"By the blessed light, Thom! If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand blasted times! Keep that rubbish out of my pub!"

The two women turned to look at the crumpled, elderly man who was currently picking himself off of the floor and brushing grime from his silk robes. He huffed as he reached over a table that had been knocked askew during the tiff and grinned as he located what appeared to be a pair of golden rimmed wire glasses.

"Right, well, that dwarf was quite the halfwit, wasn't he? Lost all of his gold on a simple hand of Booty Bay Holds 'em. Now!" He clapped his hands together and shimmied his shoulders. "Who's up for a nice, stiff drink?"

Illeythia and Ria exchanged an incredulous glance and stared in blatant bewilderment at the man in front of them.

"Thom Calmsky?"

* * *

Persif'oni had trained with and under some of the best druids in the Cenarion circle. She had spent the past decade or so perfectly her craft so that when the day came and she was called to battle for the Horde, she would be able to heal the wounds of war. But as she sat on the cold, stone floor of the Warsong lumber mill, she found herself gently healing the wounds of torture. There was something slightly ironic in a druid trained such as she, repairing the damage that a mad man like Hadis had gleefully inflicted.

_I wonder what Tarnis would think of me now, _she thought bitterly as the night elf stirred beneath her renew spell. Persif'oni had been working to repair the extensive injuries inflicted upon the rogue for what felt like hours now. Thankfully, he had passed out shortly after Hadis had summoned a fel guard to flay the skin from the poor elf's back. What remained had turned the druid's stomach.

Globs of pale, blue skin and clumps of turquoise hair lay on the floor like grotesque flowers in a field of red blood. The once startlingly clean room – a nod to Hadis' fastidious nature – was now a lesson in disorder, despair and distress.

The large tauren sighed as she stroked the rogue's forehead. He hadn't cried during the torture, a first for one of Hadis' victims. The pleading, the begging, the sobbing...all of it usually made Persif'oni so violently ill that she had to excuse herself even when the raging warlock demanded her presence. _It isn't right... _The druid thought as she cast another renew spell to gently knit the rogue's skin back together. As she began casting a more complicated spell that would boost the rogue's stamina, she heard the door behind her open and a startled gasp.

Persif'oni turned her head to see that one of the young women from Hadis' harem had been shoved to the floor by a large orc. He threw a mop and a pail of soapy water beside her as she jerked away from the sloshing liquid and stared up at him, her eyes wide in terror.

The orc grunted at the frightened woman and grasped her tattered cloak in his giant, gnarled fist. "Since you're such a piss poor whore, perhaps you'll be a better chambermaid. You will clean this mess, or there will be fel to pay. Understand?" He growled out in orcish. The woman lowered her head and nodded. "Good. Get started. The boys will be back soon and you're still good as a fix." He laughed as the woman scrambled to get to her feet, only to slip and fall back on her rump in the pool of blood.

Persif'oni clicked her tongue in distaste and the massive orc turned to her, anger etched in his features. "Do you have something to say to me, druid?" He spat the last word as if Persif'oni was repulsive to him. The tauren shook her head.

"No, I have nothing to say to you warrior. Leave us be, now. Hadis wants the rogue healed as quickly as possible and your rather rude display is interfering with my work." She sniffed, averting her eyes from the orc's steely gaze.

_Oh, blessed Earth Mother, please let this work, _Persif'oni silently begged, pretending to meditate on the battered night elf who twitched unconsciously beneath her healing hands. It did work. The orc snorted loudly and made a threatening gesture to the woman on the floor but then strode from the room, slamming the door behind him as he left. Persif'oni felt her body sag with relief as she turned her eyes towards the terrified woman in the center of the room.

She was a night elf too and a slender, slip of a thing. Her once long, white hair was now ragged and grimy. She had no visible facial markings, but her face was a stunning sight. She had wide, red-rimmed, gentle eyes that marked her as a healer of some type. Her small, elfin nose was caked with blood and she had a thick scab forming over a rather nasty cut on her full, bottom lip. Despite all of these injuries, the elf was still eerily beautiful. Her body trembled slightly as those haunting eyes turned towards Persif'oni.

"Thank you, druid." The woman murmured as she rose cautiously from the ground, her hands held out as if to balance herself. She moved slowly, as if the smallest movement caused her significant pain. Persif'oni's heart broke as she watched the elf begin to sop up the spilled blood of her kin.

"It was the least I could do," The druid remarked, her words held audible sorrow as she watched the night elf wring the sullied mop into the sloshing bucket of water. She cleared her throat. "What's-what's your name? What class are you? You don't feel like a druid."

The night elf smiled sadly and shrugged her delicate shoulders. "Does it matter what I am or who I was? I'm not that person anymore and even if I was, it isn't as if I could cast with this on," She sighed, her long, slender fingers sliding under the polished silver mana-tapping collar at her throat. Hadis marked all of his property and ensured that the girls were unable to cast spells without his explicit supervision.

The rogue began to stir under the druid's healing hands and Persif'oni bit her lip. She was to report to Hadis immediately when the rogue regained consciousness, but if she did that, then he'd be subject to more torture this night. She turned back towards the cleaning elf and felt that same pang of regret she had felt earlier.

"What is your name, elf? I'm known as Persif'oni," The tauren tried again, hoping to find some fragment of civility left in the broken figure before her. The night elf continued to work, mopping up the bits of flesh and blood with a newly discovered passion.

"I'm Elyth." The elf said quietly, wondering all the while why this druid had suddenly taken an interest in her. After all, the druid didn't need her for anything. _Why is she talking to me_? Elyth wondered, her pale hands reddening as she grasped the mop. _Oh, Elune, please don't let her hurt me,_ Elyth silently prayed. She had been through so much thus far and doubted her ability to take much more emotional, physical or psychological torment. But when she finally gathered the courage to roll her silvery eyes up at the druid, she was shocked at what she saw in those warm, brown eyes. She didn't see loathing or pity, but rather kinship, and the slow, steady burning of quiet revolution.

The tauren must have noticed Elyth's attention because she straightened her back suddenly and became distant again. "Once you're finished cleaning, let's see if we can't make you more comfortable, hm?"

Elyth's shoulder sagged as she realized that the druid wasn't going to help her escape after all. In fact, it appeared that she was just as much a prisoner here as Elyth was. She ceased cleaning the horror at her feet and nodded approvingly at the meditating tauren.

"Yes, thank you, Persif'oni. That would be nice."

* * *

Athene huffed as she watched Zariah dig through a pile of fallen leaves and dirt. They had been walking for what felt like days but was surely only hours. The thick canopy of trees overhead hid the evening sky but Athene could hear the cacophony of the night's symphony all around her. She rose an elegant eyebrow as Zariah tore something from the Earth and held it high in victory.

"Ah hah! I knew I left it here!" He whooped, his brow glistening with sweat under the muted moonlight that managed to seep through the thick forest. Athene tapped her foot impatiently.

"Well, what is it?" She asked, coming to crouch beside the exuberant blood elf who was practically bubbling with excitement. Zariah wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and chucked her under the chin.

"Oh, you'll see love." He pointed over her shoulder. "There's a small pond over behind that moss covered rock. It isn't a hot spring, but the water is clean and you look like you've lost to a tauren in a mud wrestling competition. Why don't you take this," He pulled a small, pad of soap from his pack and tossed it to the perplexed priestess, "and have a bath? And if you're lucky, when I'm finished here, I'll come join you." He winked as he lowered his voice seductively.

Athene was about to protest when she lifted her arm and made a sour face. She _did_ smell. She _never_ smelled. "Alright, point taken." She grunted as she hiked up her robes and headed towards the large, mossy rock about 10 feet away. _Ugh, I bet it's a swamp,_ Athene thought bitterly. It would be just like the mischievous elf to raise her hopes with the promise of a quiet bath only to have those dreams dashed by the bog of eternal stench.

The priestess gasped as she reached the mossy rock and stared in stunned silence at the scenery that lay beyond. It was...beautiful. Nestled in a small clearing of wildflowers and wisps, was a gentling swirling pool of water. It was so clear that it shone silver under the moonlight. The velvety midnight sky was visible here and looked like a blanket of darkness with pinpricks of starlight punctuating its celestial poetry. It was perfect.

Athene disrobed quickly and placed her tattered, soiled robes in a pile beside the rock that marked passage to this oasis. She grabbed the soap that Zariah had tossed her and brought the fragrant bar to her nose. It smelled fresh and faintly floral. She couldn't wait to immerse herself in the cooling pond and relax in a thick lather of the stuff. The priestess grinned as she took off running and jumped into the pond. She stifled a shriek as she rose from the cold depths and gasped as she broke the surface.

"Oooohhhh it's freezing!" She shivered, her flesh breaking out in goosebumps as she waded over to the shore so she could bathe in the shallows. She began lathering herself up in the soap, relishing the subtle floral scent as she covered herself in a thick foam. The water around her bubbled gently as she shifted to float on her back and stare at the sky. _It's so beautiful... _Athene mused silently, closing her eyes as she felt the gentle currents of the pond massage her skin.

"That feels wonderful," Athene sighed as she felt the gentle, lapping waves begin to stroke her hair and massage her scalp. Her body froze as the currents changed suddenly and her eyes snapped open when she heard a low, masculine chuckle from behind her. She jerked away from the caressing hands that had been playing with her hair only to find herself pressed up against a well-muscled and very wet blood elf. The priestess sputtered in anger only to feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment as she met Zariah's lusty gaze.

"What's wrong, priestess? You seemed to be enjoying yourself a few moments ago." The elf chuckled, hoisting her up in the water, placing a strong arm under her behind and another one around her back. Athene struggled and smacked at his chest, which only earned her an amused look from the rogue.

"You-how long have you been there?" Athene stammered, her hands pushing at his chest to no avail. "Do you think you can just lurk around young women while they bathe unsuspectingly? You _scoundrel_! You damned-you damned bloody-you BLOOD ELF!" She fumed as he brought one hand up and stroked her face. She considered biting his fingers as they traced the outline of her lips but the sensation made her stomach flutter and she tilted her head forward into his chest.

"Didn't I have a promise to keep to you, Athene?" Zariah murmured into the priestess' hair as he ran his fingertips up and down her spine. She shivered and shook her head.

"I told you before, Zariah. It's too late for that. And what are we doing here? I mean - why now? Why me? It isn't right that we're doing this after everything..." Her voice trailed off as she thought of Aris and the rest of her team. _How selfish can I be? The world is literally falling apart, my friends are dead or worse and here I am, feeling completely inappropriate things in the arms of a blood elf rogue,_ Athene thought bitterly.

Zariah sighed as he held the trembling priestess. He knew what she was thinking, how could he not? He knew she felt responsible for the events that had transpired, and while he wanted to comfort her, his intentions weren't entirely selfless. He had watched her bathe in the moonlight and had admired her generous pert breasts and soft curves. He had watched as she lathered herself, running her hands over her taut stomach and ample ass. His arousal strained in his leather breeches and he growled. Tilting the priestess' head up with his cool fingers, he pressed his warm mouth to the side of her neck and nibbled it gently.

Athene swooned as she felt Zariah's teeth against her pulse. Her heartbeat quickened as his hand moved from her back to her naked chest and sighed as he ran a calloused thumb over her erect nipples. She could feel something low in her body begin to respond to the elf's advances and fought to regain control of her senses but Zariah's wandering hands were making that an extraordinarily difficult task. He was now kissing her collarbone and running his tongue along the skin just above her breasts, nibbling and blowing cool air against her slick skin._ Oh, gods..._ She moaned silently as she felt his hand slowly tracing lazy circles down her body.

Zariah couldn't help but smirk as he felt Athene relax in his grasp. He always had this effect on women, and it appeared the priestess was not immune to his charms after all. He slid his hand lower and cupped her mound while relentlessly nibbling her neck and collarbone. Athene had all but gone limp in his arms, he lifted his head to see that her eyes had closed and mouth was parted slightly. He hummed in approval and brushed his lips against hers, gently sucking on her bottom lip as he inserted a finger into her heated nethers.

Athene moaned into the elf's mouth as she felt his finger enter her. Never had a man made her feel this...alive before. While he drove her mad with his antics and secrecy, she couldn't deny that she felt a strong attraction to him. The priestess gasped as Zariah's thumb began to circle the small, bud of nerves at the top of her mound. She wanted to squirm against him but the arm holding her against him forbade it. He continued to kiss down her jaw and throat until she felt dizzy with desire. As if sensing her need, Zariah slipped two fingers into her quivering passage and began a rhythm that made the enraptured priestess see stars.

"Please...Zariah!" Athene whimpered into his ear as he bit her neck and quickened the pace of his thumb. She moaned his name again as he began speaking lowly, his voice thick with lust, in his native tongue. She had never really paid attention to the language of blood elves, but it was strangely beautiful and under the current circumstances, extremely erotic. She almost cried out when he ceased speaking in Thalassian and bit her earlobe.

"I want you to come for me, Athene," He whispered in her ear and then softly blew air against the love bites he had left on her neck. He felt the priestess squirm against him and he tightened his hold on her, and began a 'come hither' motion with the fingers that were buried so deep inside her slick channel.

A violent orgasm crashed over the helpless priestess. Athene screamed Zariah's name as she rode his fingers, her own hands clutching at his neck desperately as she came. The elf held her against his chest and allowed her to ride his massive palm until she had finally finished, her body becoming limp with the afterglow. Athene sighed as she wrapped her arms around Zariah's muscled shoulders and closed her eyes. She only stirred when she felt the deep rumble in his chest and realized that he was chuckling.

"What's so funny, elf?" She asked lazily, her eyes half closed in contentment. She didn't resist as he lifted her from the water and began wading back to shore.

"Oh, nothing. Are you ready for a lesson yet?" He teased, his voice still thick with need. He was carrying her, bride like, back to where the two had talked about setting up camp initially.

Athene opened her eyes to see that, while she had been bathing, the elf had gone ahead and started a fire. She also took note of only one bedroll and narrowed her eyes up at the rogue, who was regarding her rather wickedly. "Presumptuous of you, mm?" She snorted as he gently placed her down on the soft bedding. He grinned at her and brushed his long blonde hair out of his face.

"Get some rest, Athene. You'll be needing it." He winked playfully as he turned back to the campfire and began sorting out packages of food from his bag.

The priestess' eyes widened and then she smiled. If Zariah wanted a challenge, she'd be happy to provide one. She fell asleep listening to the rogue's quiet humming and the music of the night.


End file.
